Date: Fri, 30 Nov 2012 06:33:14 -0800 (PST)
From: donny mumford
Subject: OLIVER'S ADVENTURED Chapter 27 (Joey, the next day) by Donny Mumford
OLIVER'S ADVENTURES
Chapter 27 (Joey, the next day)
by Donny Mumford
Well that confession could have gone better last night, and now it's going
to be awkward time this morning. Obviously we never got around to bathing
with my confession fucking that up, so when I wake-up, I hear the shower
running. Joey's first college shower in the dorm; guess our bathing
together is history. Going in the bathroom to brush my teeth as Joey's
coming out of the shower giving me a blank look and saying nothing. I look
down, mumbling, "I'm sorry, Joey, I thought you'd help me; that's the only
reason I unloaded all the crap on you." Nothing from Joey and it's starting
to piss me off. I haven't done anything to him except help him for ten
weeks, wiping his ass, bathing him, and jerking him off. So he doesn't want
to help me fine, I get it, but I don't deserve this treatment. By the time
I'm done my shower he's already gone, so I go to the dining hall alone and
see Joey sitting with a group of gymnast at a full table. Not wanting to
sit alone, I get a paper cup of coffee and wander around campus in the cold
drinking coffee and smoking Marlboro Lights telling myself, 'Well, getting
Joey's help is not going to work. I tried, but now I'll just have to drop
my burden on my brother, Christian. I can't do this alone and I'm
determined to turn my life around. Maybe I'll need to drop out of school
here and live in Seattle, probably getting professional counseling. Maybe
there are colleges I can take some courses at in Seattle, and return here
for my sophomore year, maybe'. Maybe there's too many maybe's in that
thought for it to work. Odd the way my hand shakes when I try to take a
drag of my cigarette. Also, who are all these kids wondering aimlessly
around? I mean, I know they're my fellow university students and all that,
but how come I don't know any of them? Why am I always alone and lonely?
It must be my fault because everyone else seems to have friends except me.
Everyone is walking with others while I'm walking alone. That's the way I
lived most of my life anyway, so maybe it's the right way for me.
Thinking about my problem again, the sexual one, it's interesting how
important I still feel it is. Joey doesn't want to help me because I'm
disgusting, as he's said, but be that as it may I still need to take
serious action of some sort. I don't think for a minute that this problem
is going away on it's own and I know I don't have the will power to beat it
without help. And then another thought sneaks into my brain, and it's
this: 'How the hell can I so easily accept loosing Joey, as well as missing
out on most of my freshman year at Penn, and not be upset about either
situation? It can mean only one thing, I'm in denial that it's happening; I
must not believe I've lost Joey or that I'll need to quit school and move
to Seattle. Now, why is that I wonder?' Hmmmm? That's interesting. Also,
why aren't I hysterical like I get at times of crisis? I should be crying
and blubbering and feeling sorry for myself, and you know, screaming that
it's not my fault, someone else is to blame, but who do I blame? Never mind
that, all of a sudden I have a quick spike of hope by recalling Joey's
reaction over the Randy Rider episode two weeks before Thanksgiving; the
one where Randy gave me the hickey and made me cum in my pants and Joey got
jealous, which finally led to him telling me he's gay. That time he yelled
at me too, and then later he was sorry for his rant, so maybe this is like
that time. But if that's not it, well then I'd better go back to figuring
out who to blame, or maybe start rationalizing like crazy because if no one
helps me I'm going to be lost in a fog of sexuality. Wait, did I hear Joey
calling my name? Huh? It sounded like Joey but it's hard to hear for some
reason. And then, surprisingly, I discover I'm sitting on the bare cold
ground leaning against a tree crying and blubbering so loudly no wonder I
couldn't hear. My face is covered with tears, mucus running down my top
lip, but it had been Joey calling me 'cause now he's here right in front of
me. Joey's kneeling in the wet dirt, his face two inches from mine as he
shakes my shoulders, quietly saying, "Oliver, stop that crying. Stop it!
Get up and come with me, everyone's staring at you. Get up, you're better
than this!" He pulls me up and then yells at a group of kids who are
staring, while I continue bawling like a nine year old, "What the fuck are
you all looking at? Don't you have anything better to do. His parents were
killed in a car crash. Okay, ya happy now, you got some gossip to blab
about? You now know what's going on, so get the fuck moving ya noisy
jackasses." Joey's bullshit mad staring at the group defiantly. The kids
look at each other, a few flashing us the finger, but most put their heads
down and walk away from this car crash. Joey's so pissed off at the gawkers
spit was flying from his mouth as he yelled at them, and now they don't
want anything to do with this scene.
Joey gets me walking, muttering, "We're going to have to miss Professor
Pinter's lecture this morning, Oliver. Your heads messed-up big time and
that's for sure, but we're going to work it out together one fucking way or
another. I apologize for being a prick to you last night and this
morning. That's how I react to bad news until I can think rationally. When
I saw you walk out of the dining hall without eating I thought of all the
things you've done for me, and about this little fact too: the fact that I
love you. I decided I'd stop acting like a dick and try being a friend like
you've always been for me." He talks to me quietly all the way back to our
dorm room, his head leaning towards me, his face inches from mine, saying
things to calm me down. Inside our room he washes my face and says, "Any
more crying Oliver and I'll smack your head for ya. Got it?" Glancing up at
him for the first time since he pulled me away from the tree; he appears to
be quite serious about the smack on my head, so I mumble, "Okay, Joey."
Joey smacks the top of my head playfully anyway, and then hugs me in his
arms and kisses the side of my head and I immerse myself in that wonderful
emotion called hope. Maybe everything will work out after all. Joey let's
go of me and in a calm voice begins telling me how pissed off and jealous
he'd been last night and this morning about my disgusting description of my
Thanksgiving break. I nod my head feeling relieved that the confessing part
is done with, and mutter, "Joey, I ran with the devil leaving a trail of
excuses, but I'm gonna turn this thing around. I need your help though."
Now the healing and hopefully the solution part can begin. Joey grins, "Ran
with the devil, huh? You're so goddamn cute he probably fell for you like
all us gay boys do, Oliver." I go, "Huh?" and he smiles as he runs his
fingers through my hair, saying, "Yes, to answer your question to me
yesterday. I want to go steady with you, Oliver, just you and me. But only
after I get over the shock of what you told me, and know you're back on the
right path again. Okay?" Feeling tears of relief coming on, I mutter,
"Thanks, but you better get ready to smack my head because..." and I
scrunch my face up as two fat tears roll from my eyes, then I say again,
"Thanks, Joey." He looks like he might cry too, so he says, "Lets regroup,
we're getting a little dramatic," as he rubs under his nose and puts an arm
across my shoulder, going, "Ow, damn elbows," taking his arm off my
shoulders because of a stab of pain.
Just listening to Joey discussing his feelings and reiterating that we're
going to solve this problem together is such a relief to me; knowing it
isn't going to be just my problem now because Joey knows all about it too,
so it's become our problem and that's because he cares about me as his
friend, and maybe even loves me. He says, "When you first started telling
me about it yesterday I had a lot of trouble believing you were capable of
doing all those things. I knew a little about Frankie because you discussed
that situation with me, and that seemed one sided to me. And as for Randy
Rider, I thought he was taking advantage of you and I'd rationalized that
Randy conned you into sex." I quietly say, "He didn't have sex with me
exactly. Well, he did with his finger while giving me a hickey, but I stood
there for him until, um, I had an orgasm in my pants. I can't help myself
at times, I really need you help me." He says, "You helped me so much,
Oliver, it'll be my pleasure to do whatever I can to help you, and that's
what I should have said to you last night. I hate myself for acting like a
jealous, ungrateful asshole. Can you forgive me?" I go, "Sure, Joey, that's
a lot of ugly stuff I laid on you last night, you had ever right to be
pissed and me." Joey wants to beat himself up some more for acting pissy
last night. He says, "Last night I was totally unprepared to hear what you
were telling me. It came totally out of the blue and I couldn't believe
that my cute Oliver could be part of such a lurid sex tale of unbelievable
promiscuousness; each word of your confession seemed to be ripping your
heart out. I was overwhelmed, Oliver, and I began feeling sorry for my
selfish self instead of caring about the obvious pain you were in." Wiping
my nose with a tissue, Joey continues, "The more I thought about everything
in the dining hall, the more I remembered all we'd been through together
the last three months and all the personal care you've generously provided
me, and without a single complain. And, you know, I love you for that, and
for other reasons too. So when I saw you leave the dinning hall looking so
helpless and pathetic, I hated on myself and left half my breakfast to come
looking for you. I'm so glad I did 'cause seeing you in that hysterical
state, leaning against that tree and slowly sitting down was very scary and
I'll never forget it. If I hadn't come to your aid I would never have been
able to forgive myself." Leaning against him I'm feeling grateful to him
for being here for me, and I'm feeling a kind of love for him too; a kind I
don't know a name for yet.
In our desk chairs, half jokingly to lighten things up, Joey tells me, "I'm
on a mission starting right now, dude: my goal is to find the perfect
Oliver I first knew. The shy one with the bright excited look on his face,
the one with the ready smile for everyone just wanting to be liked, just
wanting to be friends. The loving and caring Oliver who thought of others
before himself and especially before thinking about getting fucked every
few hours." He forces a laugh, then says, "Any chance I can take the trip
to Delaware with you next time." My head jerks up, "What?" and Joey goes,
"That's a joke, Oliver. It would have scared the shit out of me doing what
you did during those ten days." Joey's serious as he tries thinking of any
changes in my behavior during the last couple of months that may have
contributed to my sexual explosion, but between the two of us we can't come
up with anything specific. Joey shrugs and says, "Hell, we're working
without a net here, Oliver; neither of us has any experience dealing with
something like this, but you had no experience nursing an invalid and you
did a great job of it for me; I don't believe anyone could do better, so
now it's my turn. I agree your run-away sexual urges can lead to more
serious matters if it continues escalating. It shows a complete lack of
self control." We're on my bed now, facing each other sitting India style
with our legs crossed the way they do it when having a powwow. I nod my
head, and Joey goes on, "That's what we have to try and figure out: a way
of dealing with your complete lack of self control. Together, we'll do it."
He feels the two of us are real smart and can figure out something that
will prevent a continuation go my reckless sexual behavior. After awhile we
get off the bed and turn to my computer to research on Google for any
assets that might help us determine, first of all if I should seek
professional help right away, but we can't find any indication that my
recent activities warrant professional help, yet. That's because the
sampling we're using is basically a ten day sexual binge. Okay, we'll do
some things together to see if we can make some progress without the need
for professional help. We're in our desk chairs again, facing each other
about a foot apart, my knees in between Joey's, as he talks in a low voice
as if someone might overhear him. He says, "I'm a year younger than you
Oliver and I don't really know a hell of a lot about a lot of things, but
I've managed to take care of myself most of my life. Living in boarding
schools you can't be meek or the bullies of the world will eat your
lunch. Surviving nicely through all those years has given me self
confidence and we'll rely on some of that for our approach to curing you of
being a slutty whore. Okay?" He sees the hurt look on my face and pats my
thigh, saying, "I'm still trying to lighten you up a bit, Oliver. I don't
think you're a slutty whore, unless you got paid; did you get paid?" I
shake my head 'no', saying, "Of course not!' Joey goes, "So there, that
eliminates the whore part, anyway." He smiles at me, and says, "We'll be
okay, Oliver. Let's take it one day at a time and see where we are in a
week." I nod my head and reach over to hold his hand and he covers my hand
with his other hand and speaks sincerely this time, "I've pinned a lot of
hopes on us, Oliver; in my dreams, that is. You mean so much to me and how
could you not, after the wonderful loving way you've taken care of me for
the past three months. We're going to have a future, you and me, you'll
see. I'm gonna need to get over the picture of you doing all that sex with
all those different guys. It might take me a wile to do that, but in the
meantime we need a plan for you. But first I want to tell you something
about my behavior sexually."
We continue holding hands as Joey tells me a confession of his own. It's a
minor one about him and Eric, the boy killed in the car accident while Joey
was driving; there's nothing minor about Eric dying, but Joey's confession
is. He looks me in the eyes, saying, "I don't know if Eric and me were in
love, but we were so tight if it wasn't love, it was something close. We'd
do oral sex or jerk each other off, and always with lots of making-out and
that went on regularly for over a year prior to the horrible accident. I
lied to you about not kissing another boy, and I don't know why I did
because Eric and me really went at it. We were almost ready for anal sex;
it was going to be a coin toss to see who did who first. We were maybe a
month away from doing that, but then the accident happened that killed a
friend, one I never expected I'd ever see the like of again." He gets
choked up and a tear runs down his cheek, as he says, "Then I met you, and
you're my second chance, Oliver. You're special in ways that are hard to
verbalize. Evasive things that have to do with a basic goodness while being
sexy at the same time. So helping you with this is important to me, I'm
doing it in memory of Eric too..." then the tears come rolling out of his
eyes, big glistening tears soaking his curved eyelashes. He leans his head
against my shoulder and cries silently as I rub his back, and up the back
of his wavy hair. He only cries for a minute, then he's choked-up for a few
second so he needs to swallow hard, then hiccup. Wiping his eyes with the
palm of his hand, he says, "So, that's my true confession, Oliver, I'm
helping you to help myself and maybe relieve my guilty conscience a little
too. That's all I have to confess of a sexual nature; it was only Eric and
me, but like I said, I lied to you about never kissing another boy. You and
me know about each other's sexual backgrounds now; the good and the bad,
and now we're done with confessing; I do not, under any circumstances, want
to hear any more confessions from you about things you did before this
minute, and don't do anything you need to confess after this minute. You
probably will though because you're human, so when you do, tell me about it
and we'll decide what, if anything's to be done about it. We're starting
fresh from right now." We look at each other with sexual longing in both
our eyes, but Joey's the one with will power. After a bit he says, "Yeah, I
want you too, Oliver, but after our talk it doesn't seem the right thing to
do right now. Plus, like I said, I need to get all that sexual stuff you
told me you did with other boys out of my mind. I need to take a leading
role for us to get you in the habit of following my example, and to that
end, we'll go to class now because it's the responsible thing to do." I nod
my head feeling relief that Joey's committed to helping me, whatever his
reasons. Plus, I like following a self confident boy who takes charge. Joey
doesn't want anymore confessions, so I didn't focus on my submissiveness
but I hope he recognized I'm submissive from my description of my
activities that crazy ten days; the craziest of my life. He's smart, he
recognized that I've a submissive nature.
We head off to our next class without having forming any kind of solid plan
other than we'd work on it together and it would be a day to day thing.
Joey wants me staying with the freshman gymnast when he's there and I'm not
to be wandering over to where the seniors work-out, and I couldn't agree
with him more. After gymnastic practice, we have dinner, and finish our
homework assignments, Joey says, "I'm calling a meeting, Oliver, and one
hundred percent attendance is required, which means you and me." Damn, I
like this already, and say, "Sure Joey, where should I sit?" He says,
"We'll have all our meetings at my desk, so pull your chair over." I do
that and look at him attentively, more attentively than I ever am in
class. Joey squeezes my forearm, saying, "I've been thinking about this all
day and a couple of things occurred to me; tell me what you think. It seems
important that I make decisions for us in the foreseeable future; at least
until you're able to say 'no' to every boy who wants to fuck
you. Otherwise, it will be business as usual when what we need is something
to change. Like today's change, when I said you need to stay with the
freshman gymnast. Things like that, you'll need to agree to do what I say,
in other words. Are you okay with that?" I nod my head because I had
assumed all along Joey was going to have to set some rules, and I want him
too. He looks so cute being in charge, and appears to be comfortable
getting into that role. He hesitates, then says, "Just to establish the
concept of me making decisions for you, tomorrow when we're at gymnast
practice you're to ask, Donny Sinclair, who's one of the team managers, to
get you started with a beginners gymnastic training schedule. This will
keep you busy while I'm at practice." I ask, "Is he the boy who cuts the
gymnast hair?" He goes, "Yeah, and now that I think about it, you need to
get a beginners gymnast haircut. I'm getting a haircut tomorrow and you'll
come with me. Donny can get the training set-up for you afterwards." I
can't help but notice that Joey has stopped asking 'okay' when he says what
we're going to do. It makes me feel good that someone is making decisions
for me again, like Christian used to need to do because I couldn't. I say,
"Whatever you think, Joey." He says, "It's actually a high school thing
that junior gymnast have the same haircut, but since you're at a high
school beginners gymnastic level, it kinda applies to you. I'll tell Donny
about it, and it's a free haircut too." I don't mention I haven't paid for
a haircut since meeting Alexander. Of course, I haven't had any say in my
haircut since then either, and now I won't again apparently, which gets my
dick moving. I don't know if my dick moving in my pants just then is a good
sign or a bad sign because I don't know anything anymore. Joey can worry
about making decisions for me and I'll go along with it. It's a relief
actually. Joey looks serious again, saying, "Whenever you think I've gone
too far making decisions for you, Oliver, just tell me and we'll talk about
it. Please remember I'm in love with you so I want only good things for
you. Plus, I'm hoping you'll fall in love with me too, and while this
arrangement probably isn't going to help me much with that, it's the
situation we find ourselves in, so it is what it is. What I'm saying is,
I'm doing this mostly because you asked me to and I'm going to try my
hardest to do it right." I nod my head mumbling, "I know Joey, I want and
need your help; I really do. I'm scared though." He hugs me and we kiss and
it's sweet.
I ask if he wants me to bath him tonight, he says, "It best if I take
showers for awhile to avoid temptation because we can't have sex until you
get tested for AIDS, and any other thing you may have contracted during
that out of control ten day orgy." Joey sneaks in those insulting remarks,
like orgy, every now and then which tells me he's still pissed off at
me. He adds, "And we cant be swapping any kind of bodily fluids either."
Feeling like an outcast again, I humbly say, "I already took the test,
Joey, I wouldn't ever take a chance of infecting you." Getting my test
result that I'd printed out, I show him the code, mumbling, "They'll send
me a hard copy of the tests which shows I'm safe." He looks surprised,
saying, "That impresses me that you're really serious about this. But bare
with me, Oliver, I'm trying to get over the image of you screwing all those
boys and being screwed by the ones you didn't fuck. Forgive me, but I can't
do it with you now and I'm not sure when I'll feel right about it. Being
celibate for a while is probably best for you anyway, but you know I love
you so it won't be too long, I hope it won't anyway." I get that feeling of
being a little boy again, like when Christian would say, 'No, Oliver, don't
play with your food. Eat your broccoli.' My head down, I say, "Yes, Joey,"
and my dick moves again. What the fuck? Is that a reaction to my
submissiveness? But that's only suppose to occurs during sexual situations,
and the same for the little boy thing too. Joey looks so hot to me though,
I reach over to just touch him and he holds my hand, then kisses it,
saying, "It'll be alright, Oliver. Trust me for awhile." I nod my head too
fast, but I'm on board with him and maybe I'm learning to love him already.
Next day after class, and before practice, Joey introduces me to this cute
guy, Donny Sinclair. He's about five foot-seven and as skinny as me and
Frankie. Donny's a smiley, talkative kid with short light brown hair, and
like I said, quite cute in a boyish way. Not being a gymnast he has a body
more like mine than Joey's and we relate to each other easily, joking about
us not being in the gymnast clique. He knows the gymnast practice
positions, but does't appear to practice them much himself. Earlier, while
walking over to the gym, Joey said he didn't feel too out of line telling
me to get the high school junior gymnast haircut because Alexander cut my
hair any way he wanted it cut. Guess Joey's feeling a little guilty about
telling me what and when to get my hair cut, so he's rationalizing a bit,
but I tell him I'm fine with it, although I'm not at all sure that I am.
We meet Donny in a small cubicle that serves as the gymnastic team's
manager's office. After introductions and Donny and me are finished our
bantering, Joey says "Donny, it's a tradition in my high school for junior
gymnast to have short burr haircuts, close on the sides, and since your
going to show Oliver the basic gymnast exercises, he's agreed to begin with
that haircut. Thanks for your help. My roommate wants to see what it's like
being a gymnast so give him that haircut, and I'll see you guys later. Now
I've got to talk with the coach and try to get him to let me start
practicing, but can you give me a haircut after Oliver's? Donny says, "Of
course, Joey, I'm here to accommodate you gymnast." Joey gives me a smile
and runs his fingers through my hair, saying goodbye to it I guess. My
hair's not that long anyway; it's maybe two inches long on top and touching
my ears on the sides. I'm kinda nervous about the haircut now that it's
time to get it. I was in agreement with Joey last night, but now I'd like
to talk some more about it with Joey. Should I say anything to Donny, I
wonder. He says, "Have a seat, Oliver," and he goes to a closet for his
barber tools. Joey steps back in the room and rubs my back, startling
me. Guess I'm a little uptight about this. Leaning close to me, Joey
whispers, "I've always wonder how it'd feel to rub my fingers through a
short burr haircut on a cute boy's head, and now I'm gonna find out. You're
okay with this right?" Looking at Joey's grinning face, I go, "Um, ah, yeah
I guess, Joey." He pats my cheek and takes off in a slow jog, favoring his
healing leg. I couldn't disappoint him especially since it's the first
thing he's making me do to supposedly help me.
Donny's back setting up his barber stuff, saying, "It's goofy, but I get a
kick out of cutting guy's hair," I go, "Yeah? You mean it's kind of sexy?"
He asks, "You gay?" I mutter, "Guilty," and he goes, "No problem, dude, I
like gay guys. I'm gay too. Yeah, it's kind of sexy having cute guys
sitting in the barber's chair kinda submissive like, and I get to cut their
hair. I like giving short haircuts best. It gives me a boner
sometimes... heh heh. Weird, like I said." He's got a nice, kinda sweet,
personality; very unpretentious, almost naive. We talk for a few minute,
with me sitting in a chair, that looks like the minimalist barber chairs
they have in places like Super Cuts. Donny then wraps a professional type
barbers cape around my shoulders, saying, "You might want to say goodbye to
your nice hair, Oliver, a short burr haircut don't leave much on your
head." Then, using barbers clippers with a very thin guide he begins
running the clipper way up the back of my head, then around to the sides
with the clippers going up the side all the way to the top. Much more hair
than should be on my head pools in my lap as it slides off the clippers and
down the cape, and now I've got a very scary feeling in the pit of my
stomach. Donny gave me a handheld mirror, but I'm afraid to look. He cuts
my hair as he says nonstop, funny chatter. My cut hairs continue to pile up
in my lap on the cape. He isn't shy about cutting it wicked short and I'm
calming down a little, resigned to it. Then he changes the clipper
attachment, also a thin one and runs the clippers down the middle of my
head and I have that nervous stomach again. Over and over he runs the
clippers on top, baring down on my scalp. Then with no attachment on the
clippers and using a comb as his guide, he tappers the hairs on the side to
the length on top and when I think he's got to be done, he uses the bare
clippers tapering from my sideburns up the sides of my head halfway. Donny
says, "Joey said short on the sides which I take to mean whitewalls, so it
really's gonna look short. I think of Richard's whitewall haircut with his
ugly too dark red hair and shiver as Donny continues around the back, going
halfway up with the bare clippers. Finally he uses trimmers to outline
around my ears giving me hope there's a little hint of hair left on the
sides. He's done, muttering, "You might as well take a look, Oliver, 'cause
you'll have to see it sometime," and he chuckles. Lifting the handheld
mirror, my hand shaking, I look at my haircut and gasp. It's scarily short,
but I'll just make myself get used to it. Donny says, "Half inch on top,
eight of an inch higher up the sides and back, and a sixteenth of an inch
on the lower sides and back. All blended in perfectly even if I do say so
myself. And he rubs my head with both hand briskly with tiny hair clippings
flying off my head. Then he brushes the top of my head, muttering, "Think I
got all the clippings off." I'm still staring at my haircut in the mirror,
hardly believing it.
Donny asks me if I what he heard about me and Randy is true and I say in a
quiet voice, "I'm embarrassed to say whatever you heard about Randy and me
is probably correct, but I'm changing my behavior starting yesterday,
Donny. This haircut will be a reminder to me that I've turned over a new
leaf." He goes, "Damn, I wish I'd met you before you decided turning over
this new leaf; I got an awesome boner cutting your hair and I can only
imagine the boner I'd get fucking your hot rear end, dude. Yeah, it figures
you'd be turning over a new lease on life just when I meet you. Damn, if it
weren't for bad luck, I'd have no luck at all," and he squeezes my neck
asking, "How do you like your haircut? It looks so hot on you, Oliver,
'cause it shows off your cute face." He's trying to make me feel better
about it, but this is one wicked short haircut so I don't answer him. A
burr, huh? I'll remember that name and this haircut forever. Donny and me
hit it off though and hopefully we can become friends because he's my
instructor for the beginner gymnast exercises I'll be doing. I like
him. Looking at my refection from the mirror of my incredibly short hair
again, I can't help but blush with embarrassment. Guess it's pretty much
just right for me though; just what I deserve. This bootcamp type haircut
makes me feel humble and my previous cool self image evaporates into thin
air. Good, I'm not cool anyway, and thinking I was got me in trouble. If
possible, the haircut looks even shorter than Donny said it was, and I feel
odd and strangely embarrassed as Joey walks back in the office just as
Donny's taking the cape off and dumping all my nice hair on the floor. Joey
does a double take when he sees me as Donny's saying, "I need to visit the
boy's room, be back in a minute, Joey." Needless to say I've never had a
haircut nearly this short, not even close, and I feel kinda humiliated, but
like I said, I deserve it. Looking at my haircut, Joey asks rhetorically,
"Have you seen Oliver Nickerson around?" Then he gives me a smile and a
squeeze the back of my neck, as I blush with embarrassment. He goes,
"Jesus, Oliver, I never expected it to be this short. Donny's idea of a
burr haircut if different from the barber's where I come from." I can't
stop blushing, so yeah, it's humiliating because no one in the entire
university has a haircut like mine. Most of these eggheads go in for the
seventies shaggy hair look. Oh man, I'm not sure I made the right decision
here. Maybe it's a matter of me making some poor choices for ten days and
then over reacting to that. Joey's trying to help me, but he doesn't know
what he's doing anymore than I do.
He's humming as he rubs his fingers through my half inch bristles,
muttering, "Yeah, but I like this look for you Oliver. It's like, every
time you look in a mirror this haircut will remind you of what we're trying
to accomplish, which is simply helping you establish self control. We'll
keep it this short for the rest of the year and maybe fewer boys will come
on to you. The haircut's extreme, but maybe we need extreme measures to
cope with you're radical behavior. I don't like being the hard ass, Oliver,
but tough love might be what you need, so yeah, you'll rock this haircut
until the end of our freshman year. Hell, I don't know what I'm doing
except following my instincts; my best guess in other words. It's all we
got to go on. So Donny gave you a shorter haircut than I expected, but it
might have the side benefit I mentioned; the one about perhaps fewer gay
boys will be sniffing after you. You're promiscuous mostly because so many
gays are hitting on you, right?" Man, I'm somber! I give a little nod of my
head at what Joey asked, my hand on my head feeling in disbelief the
stubble. Guess I'm a little pissed at Joey too; if he didn't know what
Donny considered a burr haircut he should have asked him before cavalierly
instructing Donny to give me a short burr. Joey's right, he doesn't know
what he's doing. I mutter, "Every time I see my refection I'll also be
reminded of who's in charge of me too, right Joey?" I may have had a hint
of sarcasm in my tone of voice. Joey shrugs, looking me right in my eyes,
sternly saying, "Well yeah, that too, but you asked for it so I hope you're
not giving me attitude already!" Damn, dropping my eyes I frown, looking
away. Guess I'm pouting because I didn't expect to be chastised; guess I
expected an apology from Joey for not knowing what kind of haircut he
ordered for me. Instead he almost snaps my head off. My eyes sting,
goddammit, why'd I bring this on myself; now it's gone from bad to worse
for me. Joey isn't satisfied with my response. He lifts my head with a grip
on my chin, and looks me in the eyes, asking, "Didn't you ask me to make
decisions for you, and keep my eye on you?" My dick moves in my pants, as I
mumble, "Yes, Joey." He swats the top of my head, startling me; then gives
me a rye smile, rubbing my hair, saying, "It feels macho, but not sexy,
Oliver, and we need less sexy for you." I look down again.
While Joey's getting his hair cut I stare at myself in a mirror and think
how ironic it is that I wind-up with a much shorter version of Frankie
Nerey's original hair style, and things started unraveling for me with
Frankie. Ha, it's also ironic that I thought life was finally going my way
when and the truth is I couldn't handle it and I began losing myself; but
it started with Frankie. Cute face and tasty spit swapping. I thought I
loved him and that I was cool enough to get him to love me, but he was
basically blase about me and used me for his enjoyment when he chose to. I
pretended we were in love, what a sick joke, but I'm almost over Frankie.
Rubbing the bristly hairs at the back of my head and rubbing my hand all
the way up on top of my head I wonder if I'll ever feel I'm in love with
Joey; I mean the way I thought I was in love with Frankie, or has Frankie
ruined me where love's concerned." I gotta admit that Joey looks so cute
with his short curly hair; well, it's long compared to my hair and I
discover I am pissed off at Joey. Pissed off he made me get this fucked up
haircut. I feel like a freak. As we're walking out of the small cubicle
Donny rubs my head, asking again, "How do you like the haircut, Oliver?"
There's no sense in hurting his feelings because he did what he thought
Joey and I wanted, so I mutter, "Um, I need to get used to it, Donny, and
you know, thank you. You did a good job of, um, tapering the different
parts." Joey gives me a look, nodding his head almost like, 'You better say
that!' and I think, 'What a prick', but feel myself pouting instead of
acting pissed off. Joey heads for the team's practice area and Donny takes
me off to the side to show me beginners exercises. He says, "Ah, Oliver,
do you mind if I ask you something; um, are you and Joey together? If
you're not, I'd like to buy you a soda or something after practice and, you
know, ask you out. I can be part of the new leaf you're turning over."
Looking over at this cute freshman, I think, 'Jeez, what if I met him
before Thanksgiving break...', but I leave that thought unfinished, and
quietly say, "For now I guess you could say Joey and I are more or less
together, but I'd go out with you in a minute if we weren't. It's more like
Joey and me are trying to find out if were together than anything else, but
thanks for asking, Donny." He mutters, "I had to ask, lets be friends
though. I get the sense you're pissed about the haircut, but you guys asked
for a short burr; isn't this what you had in mind?" I go, "It's not your
fault, you cut my hair the way we asked and I'm not pissed at you." He
chuckles, muttering, "You're pissed at somebody, heh heh. Glad it's not me
cause you're on my radar screen if it don't work out between you and
Gallo." He drops the subject and sets up a training schedule that has me
sweating bullets before our forty-five minutes is up. God, I'm going to be
sore tomorrow.
After the gymnast practice Joey wants me to shower with the freshman team,
and as one gymnast after another sees me I get comments like, "Holy shit,
what do you call that haircut!?" and, "The Marine's meet at the armory down
town," and even meaner comments, like "What the fuck you trying to prove
with that haircut? Trying to get noticed, are you?" Yep, it's humiliating,
but what can I do except blush. Most of the guys are laughing at my
haircut, but a few are pricks, bullies actually, smack the back of my head,
yelling, 'Swats!" Whatever that means. Joey maintains a neutral expression
without sticking up for me and I feel low and beat-up. Guess it's hazing
the new guy who happens to have a freak's haircut. I'm right back to being
the loser I was in high school. It's probably who I am deep down anyway. I
had my fling with fantasy land and now I'm back to reality. Joey never once
apologizes for fucking up the haircut thing and instead gets us on a tight
schedule, never letting me out of his sight for long. It's a day after day
routine of classes, gymnastic workout, dinner, and studies. He tries to
have conversations with me or to goof around with me like we used to do,
but I'm more comfortable pouting and feeling sorry for myself. It's amazing
how that haircut broke my spirits. After the first couple of days most of
the wisecracks about this stupid haircut dry up, but I still see myself
every morning when brushing my teeth and it reminds me that I'm not the
cool hot-shit I thought I was for a few months there. Me and Joey do no
bathing together and no sex. Oddly I don't even want to jerk off and I've
kinda come to resent Joey's bossy manner, but I don't have the balls to
challenge him; and anyway, it gets to be a habit to just do what I'm
told. I'm now in denial that I ever had a problem that warranted this
treatment. Every day my body's so sore I can hardly get out of bed from the
exercises Donny puts me through; they require I use muscles I've never used
before. Donny said it'll get easier each day, but the first week is a
bitch. Joey checks in occasionally to watch me do my exercises and to
brake my balls in a joking way that he's already doing three times what I'm
doing and he only got the casts off his broken arms three weeks
ago. Sweating like mad and cursing under my breath, I try to complete each
series of the workouts to prove to the gymnast I can. Two or three times a
day I rub my fingers in the bristles on my head and get pissed off all over
again.
At the beginning of the second week, with Joey very much in charge, were at
his desk working on a paper for World Economics, sitting side by side; I'm
tired and without thinking, I put my head on Joey's shoulder like we always
used to do. He pushes my head up roughly, saying, "No, don't tempt me,
Oliver. Sex is all you think about and it's what got you running out of
control in the first place. I'm seeing if you can exist normally for a
while. Please don't nags be about sex either; I'm still trying to get over
you having sex with different boys, sometime twice a day, during
Thanksgiving break while I was at my grandparents bored and thinking how
much I loved you. Maybe I'm shallow, but I'm still disappointed and,
frankly hurt that you did that random sex with everyone, and you did it
even after I told you I'm gay and you'd fucked me six nights in a row. I
told you I loved you too, which makes me feel like a fool in
retrospect. The first god damn chance you got, you jumped in bed with
someone you hardly knew. So, I guess I didn't mean much to you, did I?"
His outburst is so unexpected, Joey's getting angrier with each word. It's
probably been building in him during the whole week. Guess he's mad as hell
at me, but willing to helping me, if this is even helping, because I
provided all that nursing care for him. I thought he'd already forgiven me
and we were moving on, but I guess not; he's hurt more than I realized and
I feel ashamed again. I was ashamed of myself initially, but changed that
to my current emotion of being pissed at Joey and feeling sorry for
myself. My face gets red of course, but I manage to mumble, "I'm sorry,
Joey. I can see why you'd be mad at me." He shakes his head like there's a
fly buzzing around it, then asks, "Which assignment do you want to do? I'll
do the other." Put in my place, we complete the assignments talking only
about their content, nothing about anything personal.
Done the seemingly never ending homework assignments, we go out for a smoke
and a walk around the campus. We walk about a mile in silence before Joey
asks, "I noticed you stopped jerking off, Oliver. Um, it's okay to do that
if you want to, you know that, right? I don't want to watch you do it
though." He glances over at me and I look down, thinking he's going to get
pissed-off at me again. Joey sarcastically adds, "That's what the vast
majority of guys right here at Penn do; they jerk off. Most guys, gay or
straight, don't get fucked three or four times a day," He's getting worked
up again, so I nod my head in agreement, mumbling, "Yeah, I know that
Joey. I'm sorry". He goes, "And stop saying you're sorry all the time. Do
things you don't need to be sorry about." Those are the last words of
advise he has for me, duh. Now we're back to not talking again. This sucks!
Hmmm, actually I was under the impression he didn't want me jerking off,
and maybe that's why I haven't done it; trying to please him. Can that be
it? I was even worried he'd find out I was having those nocturnal emissions
every once in awhile; which by the way, do not satisfy. The idea that I'd
have to get his permission apparently never entered Joey's mind, but I
guess it was in my subconscious mind. He's not thinking he's my master,
but maybe I'm thinking that, and that's my bad. Fuck, I don't know what to
think anymore, except I probably need Joey's help getting me off the
whirlwind of casual sex I was on. I'm horny though, no sense lying to
myself. It's also strange how I must not be putting out any gay signal now
because, except for Donny after my haircut, no one has come close to
propositioning me since my haircut; or is since because Joey's been in
charge of where I go? That gymnast, Evan, was the last boy to come on to
me, but that was before my confession to Joey and maybe my attitude hadn't
changed yet. And here's the strangest thing: I want Joey to want me
sexually again. It's him I've been doing sexy fantasizing about, and that's
true even though half the time I'm pissed at him, blaming him for my
situation. Hell, I know it's my fault and now, thinking about Joey's
lecture earlier, it gives me a guilty conscience. He was thinking about
loving me over the holiday break while I was getting fucked multiple times
a day. No wonder he's disappointed and mad at me. Maybe I should never have
told him about my sexual exploits. Well, it's done now so I need to deal
with it, but it's been gloomy since I confessed.
Gloomy or not, I begin jerking off whenever I'm sure Joey can't hear me
doing it, like when the showers running. It helps some to quiet the
constant yearnings, and I think about only Joey when I'm doing it;
exclusively Joey.
An idea I have about Donny and me doing something sexy together remains
just that, an idea; an unspoken fantasy. I know it would be cheating on
Joey's plans, so I never mention it to Donny, who I know would go along
with me. I'm working out with Donny every day the gymnast have practice and
now Joey's added jogging to our routine to strengthen his leg. We do a
slow jog after our homework's completed each night. Slow because his
knee's still giving him trouble, although he never complains about it. This
weekend we're on sweeter terms with Joey all of a sudden, hugging me for
some reason, and then even kissing the side of my head saying
goodnight. The feel of his hug and his lips on my forehead was special to
me, so much so I tear up, but make sure Joey doesn't see the tears because
he's mentioned I cry too much. That makes sense to me because I'm too
fucking old to be crying like a ten year old anyway. Both Tuesdays since
my new life started I've managed to do the laundry for Phil and Richard
without Joey knowing about it. I've always done Joey's and mine, and even
though Joey's better he doesn't suggest a change so I guess it's part of my
punishment. Phil gave me one fairly hard spanking and even groped me and,
God help me, I hoped he'd do more groping. On the plus side, I've never
felt better in my life due to the workouts and jogging, so that's
good. I've got some muscle definition I never had before and I'm eating
better too; and I put on six pounds. I'm also yearning for Joey all the
time now and completely over being pissed at him; instead I have constant
yearnings for him, so much so it's like an ache in my stomach. No more
negative thoughts about him; just constant deep yearnings.
Monday is a good day, Joey and me are on good terms again and he even said
he's proud of me. Tuesday's here and that's laundry day. Joey knows I do
laundry after class on Tuesday; I just meet with Donny later on laundry
days. It's of course Richard and Phil's laundry, plus Joey's and mine. Joey
knows nothing about the wrestler's laundry and I want to keep it that way
because it's embarrassing as hell that I was such a wuss agreeing to
Richard's arrangement. Surprising me, Joey now wants to help me with the
laundry. He says now that he's able, we'll do it together after practice. I
hem and haw and finally mumble, "Um, don't think I mentioned this to you,
but I make some extra money doing a couple of the wrestler's laundry?"
We're going to the dorm after last class. Joey stops walking and grabs my
arm tightly, talking in a way I know means he's angry, he says, "That's
bullshit, Oliver. Your brother sends you more money than you can spend. We
need to be truthful with each other. What's the real story here? Are you
screwing a wrestler?" He looks right in my eyes and they start
watering. He goes, "Don't cry! I don't care how you control it, just don't
cry! And, tell me the truth about the wrestler's laundry." There's more of
a compassionate sound to his voice by the end of that. Wiping my nose with
the back of my wrist I tell him everything, including being spanked by the
pervert, Phil. As I'm relating my tale of woe, Joey says, "Yeah, I
remember you telling me about the bully Richard way back during the first
week we were here." As I continue with what happened after that first
incident with Richard, he shakes his head like he can't believe how I
reacted to the bullying, and now I can't either. Joey's expression softens
when I finish my humiliating confession, another one. He pulls me to him
for a hug right in the middle of the campus, and says, "You poor
bastard. You're so intelligent with study materials, but life's a mystery
to you, isn't it?" He's hugging me with my arms pinned to my side.
Students walk by giving us that old line, "Get a room, why don't ya." Joey
lets me loose and we continue walking to our dorm with Joey telling me,
"Oliver, I want you to tell those assholes the laundry detail is over as of
today." I try to get across to Joey that these guys are legitimately crazy
and will beat the shit out of both of us. Joey says, "That's nonsense;
bullies backdown when confronted. And these two cretins aren't going to
take a chance on fucking-up their senior year over a laundry issue." He
pats my shoulder and I nod my head like I agree with him, but inside I'm
shaking like a leaf. When we're in the main part of the dorm, Joey's like,
"Get up there, Oliver, and tell them what I told you to say, don't provoke
them, just say you're not doing the laundry any longer. What the hell, I'll
go with ya."
He walks up with me as calm as can be, humming as we go up the steps; it's
like he loves this shit, this confrontation. Initially my number one
concern is not to stutter in front of Joey. And then I'm thinking I wish
Joey weren't with me so I could grovel and maybe not get my ass
kicked. Phil opens the door, and says, "You're suppose to just come in and
get the laundry, dickless." He looks over at Joey, and asks, "Who's this,
your boyfriend? He come to help you do the laundry?" Joey smiles
exaggeratedly as if Phil said something funny or clever. It gave me
confidence, and I say, "Yes and no, Phil," and I say it in a bit of a
smartass way. Phil's eyes get wide and he sputters, "Who the fuck do you
think you're talking to, faggot?" Joey looks from Phil to me, like we're a
tennis match and the ball's coming my way, then Phil's, then mine. I care
infinitely more about what Joey thinks about me, than what Phil thinks
about me, and if it's a beating I get, so be it. I say clearly, "The yes
and no thing? That what you mean? The yes, is for: yes he's my boyfriend
and, the no as in, no he's not gonna help with the laundry. I don't need
help with your laundry because I'm not doing it any longer." Phil looks
confused, he sticks his head out the door and looks up and down the hallway
to see if maybe we have the entire gymnastic team with us. Maybe he
wonders, if we don't have reinforcements, why am I being so arrogant?
Satisfied we're alone, he mutters, "You'll do the laundry or Richard will
kill you, ya little turd." Looking Phil in the eyes, I say, "No, and
no. As in no he won't kill me and no I'm not doing the laundry. Jeez, I
just told you that; are you stupid, Phil?" He stares at me with his mouth
moving slightly, his neck and face are bright red, but he says nothing. I
point my index finger at him saying, "Tell ya what I'm going to do for you
two wrestlers. I'm willing to call us even, and I'll forget about this
whole sordid affair, and I won't even mention your bullying to the dean,
and you know it was more than bulling, don't ya, Phil? But I'll stay quiet
about it only as long as neither of you come within ten feet of me, ever."
He can't speak, his chest is heaving, and there's that disgusting thickish
saliva thing at both corners of his mouth. Very unattractive look. Gaining
confidence by the second, I finish in a threatening tone of voice, "If
either of you two nitwits does any harm to me, or any of the freshman, I'll
either call the police or tell the dean that you get a hard pee pee when
you spank me. Got it, Phil?" He stares out past Joey and me for about five
seconds, then in a guttural voice, mutters, "Wait'll I tell Richard," and
he slams the door in our faces. Joey goes, "Okay, that was good Oliver,
lets get to practice now. I'm going to need to do push-ups for being late
as it is. And, Oliver, remember I said no provoking?" I go, "Un huh," and
Joey says, "You were provoking him, but it seemed to be fine with Phil, so
I guess I was wrong." Joey's in a good mood although my knees are so shaky
now when I think back to the smug way I talked to Phil, as I'm going down
the steps I need to hold on to the banister all the way down, leaving damp
hand prints each spot I grab. Joey's chattering away as if nothing
happened. For a second there, when Phil first opened the door, I thought
I'd pee my pants. My desire to not look bad in front of Joey overrode my
fear though. Outside the dorm, Joey says, "Ya know, that was a damn good
job, Oliver. Lets jog to the gym." We get there cold and winded. Joey
takes the wind out of my sails then, saying, "Get Donny to give you another
haircut this afternoon," then takes me by surprise, saying, in between
quick breaths, "You want to mess around tonight, Oliver, get a little
sexy?" Looking him in the eyes, my heart pounding, I take a big breath, and
go, "Okay."
It's hard to concentrate on my exercises after that, and Donny yells at me
a couple of times getting me to pay attention so I force myself to get into
a rhythm of it and complete all my repetitions. I have to stop thinking
about Joey saying we'd mess around tonight. The only thing left are
sit-ups and push-ups. Joey comes over while I'm doing them, and says,
"Oliver, after Donny's done with your haircut, meet me in the locker room."
He never adds, 'okay' when telling me what he wants me to do anymore, and
that dominance always gets my dick moving; I used to it by now. I nod my
head yes, too out of breath to speak. There's no mercy with these guys,
Donny made me do every single drill before he patted me on the back,
saying, "Good workout, get a shower and then I'll do your haircut." I
shower alone thinking about getting another one of those scalp-job burr
haircuts and decide it's not that big a deal now that everyone's had their
fun mocking me. It's old news now. Drying and getting dressed I jog back to
the manager's cubicle where Donny has just finished a cool haircut for one
of the junior gymnast. It's a short haircut, but cool and certainly not
like mine. Sitting in the chair, Donny spreads the cape around me and goes
about giving me the same extremely short haircut as last time. My hair had
grown out to a reasonable length, but I'm back to almost a shaved head when
Donny's done with me. Finishing the haircut by using trimmer clippers to
outline around my ears, Donny hands me a mirror and I gawk at myself, then
exclaim, "This is shorter on top then before, Donny!" He goes, "Yep, your
boyfriend asked me to do it a quarter inch on top this time, no more half
inch until I get the word. Don't get pissed at me, talk to Joey about it."
Goddammit!
Off I run to meet Joey, I run everywhere now; it's become a habit since I
started the training regiment of Donny's. I'm kinda pissed off at Joey
again, except we're gonna get sexy tonight after homework so it's kinda
hard to stay mad thinking about finally having some sex again. My heart's
pounding with anticipation actually. Joey sees me jogging towards him in
the locker room as he's just finishing getting dressed after a
shower. Other gymnast are yelling and horsing around, in and out of the
steamy showers. Joey goes, "Good haircut, Oliver. I like the way you look
with that basic training haircut." As I approach him I try pouting,
mumbling, "You told Donny to cut it shorter." Joey's nonplus, smiling and
rubbing my head, saying, "Yeah, I did 'cause I like the feel of it like
this, and you look good with it." I shrug mumbling, "It's okay, as long you
like it. I don't care it's even shorter then my last haircut." He says,
"That's the spirit, Oliver. Hey, ya know what?" I go, "No, what?" He says,
"I don't want to wait till after homework, we'll play around sexy-like when
we get back from the dining hall, and save the homework for after we have
some fun." I smile and nod my head, forgetting about the haircut; Joey's as
excited about having sex as I am. Inside our room we take off our backpacks
and Joey wiggles his finger for me to come over to him. When I do he wraps
me in his arms and I wrap mine around his neck and we hug like that,
swaying slightly with the sides of our faces tight against one another. The
feel of Joey's body is very special and he has that unique special scent
I've been missing; he's very attractive to me. Naturally my eyes are
watering and I lean my head down to wipe my eyes on Joey's shoulder. Right
after that, our faces come together again and Joey's tongue is in my mouth
and we have a delicious make-out which soon has our lips and chins slippery
with spit. I moan into his mouth as my dick grows hard, pushing against the
inside of my pants. It's so good to feel this boy again and share a kiss;
I missed it so much more than I even realized. We make out for quite a
while, with me on the verge of cuming for the last five minutes. Joey, out
of breath, says "Oliver, I want you to suck me off before dinner. He takes
in a big breath, and continues, "We'll start with just that for now, and
see how I feel about things after we eat. I'd like to go all the way
because I want to fuck you so badly it's driving me crazy with desire, but
we're still in an experimental period and I'm afraid for you to get wild
again. I want so badly for us to be normal lovers, but we'll take it slow
so we don't turn it into a orgy." Another big inhale by Joey, it's like he
can't catch his breath, then he finishes with, "You get yourself off while
you're blowing me". Joey's still doing his version of tough love, but I've
always liked sucking young guys' cocks and it almost always get me off
doing it. This oral sex is a first time for Joey and me so I'm expecting to
get off with an awesome orgasm from sucking his cock.
I mutter, "Whatever you say, Joey," and kiss him fast all over his face a
half dozen times. He seems so hot to me lately; much more then he was
before the troubles. He's like my idol, and maybe I love him now. Slowly
going own on my knees, keeping my eyes on Joey's, I unbutton his jeans and
pull them down to his knees, then his boxers, and there's his big cock. His
pubic hairs have grown out some so maybe he'll let me shave them for him
later. For now I'm desperate to taste his cock. This close to his crotch
has me gasping for oxygen as I quickly unzip and pull out my already hard
dick. What a relief to have it out of those tight pants. Sucking his
flaccid cock in my mouth and running my tongue all over the shaft, the part
I can get in my mouth anyway. Soon my sucking and licking on his dick gets
Joey moving up and down on his toes slightly and making, "Mmmm," sounds in
his throat. When I've got his cock dripping with my saliva, firmed up quite
a bit, I push it out with my tongue and begin licking his balls with my
tongue way out; long laps that lift his nuts then, when they're dripping
wet, I lick under his balls. My tongue presses next to his anus, then up
the back of his scrotum pushing his nuts up against my upper lip and
nostrils for a deep inhale that gets my boner moving and dripping precum,
"Drip, drip, drip." From under his balls, up and over the bottom and up
the front of his scrotum to the base of his stiffening cock, and then all
the way up it's shaft to the head, which I suck into my mouth tonguing it
for all I'm worth as a low moan of pleasure escapes Joey's mouth and he
begin running the fingers of both hands through my new burr haircut. Oh,
sucking on an uncut cock is the best 'cause I get my tongue in the foreskin
down to the base of the head and move my tongue around inside his foreskin.
Joey's hard now so I stroke his boner as I suck on it's head. Pulling the
foreskin down and putting my tongue tight against the head, then pushing
the loose skin up so that it captures my tongue in place against that firm
penis head, and I taste Joey's first pearls of precum and that gets me
moaning and stroking my boner.
Licking down to the base of his cock's uncut skin again, with Joey's doing
fast exhale sounds and continuing to run his fingers from the front of my
burr haircut to the back, over and over. I've started stroking my boner in
time with my stroking of Joey's as I suck and lick his beautiful,
olive-skinned cock. Both of us are horny and neither of us lasts even five
minutes before I begin desperate grunts, moving on my knees and sucking
harder as my climax builds and builds. With Joey's cock still in my mouth I
squeal around it as sexual sensations flood my body. My hips buck and with
shivers running up and down my spine I shoot an almost painful stream of
pent-up cum from my cock between Joey's legs. With a sharp desperate sexual
need to climax like this, it has my shoulders shuddering and bright dots of
light, like diamonds shot from the sun, filling my vision. Then another
long stream of spunk from my quivering cock head blows onto Joey's jeans
and while I'm whimpering with pleasure, short spurts of cum continue
spurting from my cock and Joey spews cum in my mouth making a cry of pain
and jerking so much his cock comes out of my mouth and his second long
string of cum hits me in the face as I scramble to get his boner back in my
mouth so I can taste more of Joey's spunk. We're both making embarrassing
sounds of pleasure, slightly out of control for maybe a full minute. Then
no more spurts of cum from me, and just drools from Joey's cock and we both
do low moaning sounds as I'm trying to remember each sensation during my
climax; it's such a relief climaxing from doing a sex act with Joey, and so
worth the wait. I continue sucking on Joey's awesome cock, and lazily
stroking mine, until Joey mutters, "The head of my cock's getting
sensitive, Oliver." I pull my mouth off his cock and Joey holds my face
against his crotch with both his hands on my head moving his hips to smear
the cum he shot on my face all over his pubic area, as he takes deep
breaths. He smell so good I want to do it all over again. Shortly, Joey
pulls on my head lightly and I stand. He hugs me, saying quietly, "That was
awesome, Oliver, thank you. Come over here with me, let's sit down." We
sit on his bed, his arm around my shoulder as cum dries on my face. He
says, "I'm not sure why, but I think it's best if we get into our sex
together slowly. You know, Oliver, I'm scared you'll get back to gorging on
sex like before. I want it to be special for us, never routine. We should
be making love during sex, not having casual fun to get ourselves
off. We've better than that; you're better than that. Maybe I'm a jerk, but
sex has always been almost a sacred thing to me, something that my friend
and I took seriously and I'm hoping you and me can too."
There's a bit of a lecture to all this from Joey, but I take it as a
natural thing between us now. Joey considers my sexual addiction a serious
matter and he's conscientiously taking a controlling role in the best way
he knows how, and I respect him for it. How could I argue with anything he
want to try; I don't have a better idea, so I'll just follow Joey's lead.
It's true that I'd prefer we do more sex, a lot more sex actually, but Joey
wants to start off with something less glutenous. We'll be doing things
Joey's way; that's the major message I got from our initial oral sex
experience. Joey's the boss. I already knew that of course, but I'm not
sure Joey knows that I know it, if you know what I mean. Joey's
affectionate with me after the oral sex. Random hugs and kisses are always
very welcome as far as I'm concerned, and I've been looking forward to them
recently, in fact I've been trying hard lately to please Joey so he'll give
me more. I can only hope the oral sex is enough for me until Joey want's
to take it further. This is how he was with his boyfriend, Eric; they took
it slow and steady so it's the way Joey's familiar with, but I got a strong
sex drive and I need some anal intercourse badly. It's a battle not giving
in to my strong urges. Hell, there are a couple of willing partner at Penn;
three actually, so I need to try using my willpower and not turn to them. I
need to wait for Joey.
to be continued.... Chapter 28 (Rape & Love) Donny Mumford thinat20@yahoo.com
Please consider a tax deductible contribution to nonprofit Nifty. Details
at the site. Thank you.